


Of Stealing Clothes.

by pansypark



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 06:24:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pansypark/pseuds/pansypark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with a simple grey tee disappearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Stealing Clothes.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in July, but never posted it. Figured now was a good enough time to do so :D Enjoy, and all that~

It starts with a simple grey tee disappearing.

He hadn’t even noticed it was gone, to be fair. When you were in the middle of hunting some freakish beast that has a tail and poisons people you tend to let the little things slide. Especially when everything goes wrong because you send in brand new betas to do the work of an Alpha.

So Derek doesn’t notice when the shirt goes missing. He does, however, notice when Isaac slinks out of the abandoned subway cart, tugging on the leather jacket he picked up after his transformation in a poor effort to hide the loose shirt hanging off his chest. From the look on his face alone, Derek can tell that Isaac hadn’t planned on him being out here and his body tenses, eyes freezing on Derek’s face.

The Alpha just gives him a quick once over, glaring at the material before turning back to the never ending stack of books that didn’t help _at all_. He doesn’t have time to wonder what it means and the thought of another innocent person getting murdered while he fights with his beta over a stolen shirt just has him pressing further into the stack with vigor.

Isaac stands there for another few seconds, leather jacket hanging off of one shoulder before he shrugs himself back into action and he’s pulling it on fully, stepping over to collapse against the warped old bench. He chances a look at Derek, eyeing him speculatively before picking up one of the books and flipping through it aimlessly.

They end up sitting like that for a solid two hours before Derek gets tired of the silence and he grabs his keys, leaving the beta to his own devices.

\--

Figuring out that Jackson was the Kanima eased some of the tension that permeated the air around the pack. Knowing the enemy was one step closer to _beating_ the enemy, and Derek was sick of dead bodies piling up around him. Had been sick of it for years, actually. Even before his return to Beacon Hills.

But now he was stuck, forced to make this town his home and subsequently forced to _protect_ it. So of course he needed a pack. Why Scott couldn’t understand something so _simple_ continued to boggle Derek’s mind, proving to be an annoyance at the worst of times.

So Jackson was the Kanima. That still left worries and doubts in his mind about the Martin girl. Isaac had successfully tested her and yet the toxin did absolutely nothing to her. There was no way she was immune, was there?

He’d never heard of such a thing, and no matter how hard he searched in the tattered old books, he couldn’t find any indication of it happening. But there had to of been, shouldn’t there? There’s no way she was the first.

Too caught up in his thoughts, he barely registered his actions as he stripped and changed for bed, fingers groping around in the dark to grasp the sweatpants he wore now that he wasn’t living alone. Confusion bled into his features when he came up empty, eyes searching around the small room before landing back where his hand was. He knew he left them there as he did every night, folded and waiting for them to be slipped on so he could get some sleep.

But they were gone. And he didn’t know why.

He walked to the edge of the room, peeking out through the small crack to eye the lone beta. Isaac sat on one of the crates, back turned towards him and hunched over as he scribbled on the make-shift table. It was late; Erica and Boyd having already left to resume being normal teenagers at their respective homes, leaving the boy alone. Well, alone as can be when his Alpha was residing not ten feet away.

It was late and yet he was still devoting time to his studies. Something Derek hadn’t seen in either of his other two pups. Derek watched the boy for a moment, eyes taking in the way his shoulders would tense before he went back to writing. When he actually focused, he could hear the way Isaac was muttering the questions to himself, the sharp intake of breath when he was stumped by a question before it was quickly released and his hand was in a flurry of motion again.

Derek was momentarily distracted by this before his eyes roamed down as saw the way the boy’s pants were rolled up. A small growl of irritation started low in his chest, but Derek shoved it away. He pushed the door open, stepping out into empty room. Isaac’s head shot up, twisting around to eye the Alpha with _something_ swimming in the blue depths. Derek tried to ignore that, too.

“Isaac,” he said, voice cutting through the silence like a razorblade. The boy tensed, briefly, before relaxing and offering him a tired smile, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Some of my clothes seem to be missing. Do you know anything about it?”

The look in his eyes was fleeting, but Derek felt a spike of anger rise up at the response. Fear. The boy still feared him, and with the way Derek had been acting lately, he’s not sure why he was surprised. The smile he gets is tight, blue eyes darting away from his gaze in a sign of submission. He seems to compose himself, however, because he’s looking right back at him again and lifting his shoulders in a half-shrug.

“Sorry, Derek. Haven’t noticed anything.” A lie. A very obvious lie, but he’s proud of the kid for actually managing to lie to his face. “Maybe Erica took ‘em? You know how she is about flaunting her uh... _relationship_ with you.”

Annoyance curls up his spine like a snake, fingers clenching into fists at his sides at the mention of it. The girl was ridiculous, attempting to use her gift to seduce the Alpha. His wolf knew, though, knew without a doubt that she wasn’t his mate. But she wouldn’t _listen._

He just grunts in response, too tired to deal with it after such a trying day of _almost_ killing the wrong person, so he just twists and heads back inside. Sleeping in his boxers wouldn’t be too much of an issue, even if he liked to be ready just in case something happened.

\--

The stupid Kanima and the stupid Argents were just getting in the way. He had the beast, damnit. Had it cornered and he could’ve killed it, he almost _did_ , but then stupid Argent arrived and just ruined _everything_. At this point, he doesn’t even know why he bothers anymore. He’s about five seconds away from just packing his shit up and leaving. Let the hunters deal with the beast.

Except it’s not a _beast_ anymore. It’s Jackson, the idiot who wanted the bite. The stupid human who kept pestering him when he couldn’t even control the Alpha. Of course it was Jackson. He doesn’t know why Lydia was even the top candidate. Jackson seemed to exist solely to get on Derek’s nerves. Even going the extra mile and _rejecting the bite_ like the selfish douche he was.

The next blow lands harder than the previous, knocking the wind out of Boyd and sending him crashing to the floor. Derek doesn’t apologize, and Boyd doesn’t expect one. He just pushes himself up and dusts himself off, taking up his stance again.

He’s trying to teach them defensive tactics, but his head’s just not in it. His wolf is angry; prowling beneath the surface and itching to release some of its pent up aggression, but Derek wont let it. He _can’t_ let it. Not until he gets this mess sorted out.

The next hit breaks skin, his claws scratching and tearing open the flesh of Boyd’s forearm. The boy hisses out in pain, his eyes flashing gold briefly before he’s backing down. The Alpha in him smirks at the sight of it, excited over the simple gesture of submission. Derek crushes down hard on the wolf, keeping it caged up and he grunts, turning to leave.

He doesn’t exactly dismiss them, but they scatter anyways; each moving to pick up their belongs and do _something._ He just ignores them in favor of using the make-shift shower to clean himself off. He feels disgusting, exhausted, and a shower is exactly what he needs.

But of course when he returns to his room, the shirt he’s looking for--along with the sweatpants, which are still AWOL--is missing. He growls, irritation forcing him into action before he stills. He can hear the pups talking, voices quiet as to not disturb him. He knows he shouldn’t listen in, part of him really doesn’t even care, but then Erica’s mocking tone cuts in and he’s forced into listening.

“You know Derek’s gonna notice if you keep this up, right?” The girl says, obviously smug. Derek can practically _hear_ the smirk dripping off her words and she shifts on the bench, crossing her legs. He hears the sound of leather sliding across the metal and the motion causes a scent to waft over to him. If he bothered to look, he would see the way Isaac hunched over on the bench, elbows pressing into his thighs and hands scrubbing through his unruly hair.

“Look, I _know_ , okay? I just,” he makes a frustrated noise, ignoring the way Erica chuckles at him before sagging his shoulders, defeated. “I can’t help it. I may not be a wanted fugitive anymore, but when I went back to my...back to the house, everything was gone. I don’t exactly have anything else to wear.”

Which...makes a lot of sense, now that Derek thinks about it. He had never thought to ask the boy how he got the clothes he did, figuring he’d leave him to his own devices because it didn’t concern him. Apparently he was wrong.

“You could always just ask him to buy you some clothes, you know.” Erica says, her tone meant to be scathing, attempting to make the boy feel like an idiot. Derek feels his fists clenching at it but he wills himself to calm down, to listen to what Isaac has to say.

The silence stretches on for another few moments, almost tense. Erica seems as if she’s about to speak up before Isaac’s voice breaks through, weak.

“I can’t,” is all he says, but Derek understands the meaning behind it. He hears the broken tone, hears the fear and panic and desperation the looms just behind his words, and he gets it. For once, he actually understands.

It seems Erica does too because all she offers in response is a quiet “oh,” before she’s standing up and making an excuse to leave.

Derek figures he’ll leave the kid alone. It’s not as if he’s actually _harming_ him, and he has a good enough reason to be pilfering through his closet. But tomorrow he’ll take him shopping, get him some clothes that’ll actually fit instead of hanging off his small body like rags.

He tries not to listen too closely when Isaac sniffles, but he hears the rustle of fabric and then the grunts and huffs as the kid throws himself into the routine Derek had been drilling into their heads for weeks.

\--

Derek’s had enough.

He was fine with the stray shirt or two disappearing, or the time when Isaac stole his sweats(he still doesn’t have them back. He was forced to go buy a new pair), but this? This is too much. He peers down at the duffle bag that held all of his clothes. It was normally full, bursting with the articles of clothing and yet. It was gone.

The shirt Laura got him on their first day in New York was gone.

He knew it was stupid to be so sentimental about it. It was just an old t-shirt that barely even fit him anymore, and yet. He could feel the anger seeping from his skin, eyes bleeding to red before he could even think. He was stalking to where the boy slept, intent on making his point to the annoying pup, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he arrived there.

Isaac was sprawled out on the sorry excuse of a bed, hair tussled and twisted from a rough night of sleep. The blankets he used were kicked down towards the edge, spilling off the sides and onto the dirty floor. The shirt was twisted around his torso, hanging loose and bunching up as he shifted in his sleep, nose scrunching up before his features relaxed. He wore the sweatpants too; having them rolled up didn’t help keep them up, though. They hung low, exposing the boy’s sharp hip bones and Derek was drawn to the small trail of hair he found there.

Shaking himself, he fixed his glare on the sleeping figure, struggling to remember why he was so angry in the first place. He reached over, shoving at a bony shoulder and watching as Isaac jumped away, eyes still clouded over from his rest. He relaxed when he saw Derek, a lazy smile curling around his lips before he shifted, scenting his Alpha’s frustrations.

Derek just watches him for a moment. It’s obvious the kid is exhausted by the way he kept blinking, forcing his eyes to focus. His hands twisted into the shirt, nervous energy rolling off of him in waves. Fear, too. But when did he ever not smell like that.

Sighing, Derek reached out again, fingers curling around the boy’s bicep and dragging him to his feet. He stumbled, startled into movement and slipping on the edge of the blanket. Derek caught him easily, growling in annoyance before dragging the boy to his room and shoving him towards the bed.

“Derek?” Isaac asked, face pinched in confused. He looks a little traumatized, but overall the boy seems comfortable around him. Just confused. Derek huffs before fisting the shirt and dragging it up and off his body. He struggles, briefly, but his head pops through and he just sucks in a harsh breath, crossing his arms over his chest.

Derek figures he’s cold so he presses his hand against the boy’s chest, nudging him so he’s laying back on the bed. He pulls the shirt on over his head before crawling in next to the kid, dragging the blankets with him.

Isaac still hasn’t moved, staring up at the ceiling with mixed expressions and Derek just huffs again, reaching out an arm to curl around the kids waist and pull him against his chest. He moves easily, fits against him perfectly and Derek presses his nose against his neck.

“You can borrow whatever you want,” he says, voice muffled against the skin in front of him, but he knows Isaac can hear him. He tries to ignore the way the kid shudders when his breath ghosts across his flesh. “I don’t care, but don’t touch this shirt again, okay?”

Isaac nods, swallowing thickly before letting out a sigh and relaxing.

“Good,” Derek says, nipping at Isaac’s shoulder as he wraps himself around the kid. It’s warm and it’s comfortable and Derek falls asleep easily, reveling in the fact that he’s seeking refuge in a pup.


End file.
